


Riptide

by DeathDirt



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alluding to Mako Killing Illegal Fishermen, Graphic Violence for killing a fish, Graphic Violence for multiple killings, Great White!Mako, M/M, Mentions of illegal fishing, Pretty Glowy Tails I didn’t write enough about, Viperfish!Gabe, mermaid!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathDirt/pseuds/DeathDirt
Summary: Deep sea dwellers didn’t often come far from their territory.Great whites don’t usually care for the next fish if they’re edible.But these two just aren’t what you’d call “usual”.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a one shot for now, but! Will eventually (hopefully) become a multichap fic later! And I really like the idea I’ve come up with for a multi chapter, so!!! I know this first one is bland, but I don’t want to start writing a multi chapter and then get bogged down halfway through and end up disappointing excited readers. So for now, one shot, later, multiple chapters. Also, fun fact I learned while researching shark behavior: blood/feeding frenzies are a method of removing abundant prey from competing predators!

Mers were not the social type of animal. Mates wouldn’t seek each other out more than a handful of times outside of mating and spawning season. Even then, it was usually just for help running off a pushy third merperson or extra protection from human fishing boats. So, needless to say, there weren’t many to witness the couple hunting. 

One was a black-tail, a rarity so close to the vibrant Great Barrier Reef. A viperfish, to be exact. A deep-sea dwelling species, with dusky bronze skin and a rich black tail that glowed bright red along the midline. Most mers had some flexibility concerning their limitations, like salinity tolerance, but even a viperfish mer would normally have a hard time coming so close to the surface. The temperature was one factor - the bathypelagic zone was always much colder than the water column above it - but more so than that, their eyes were so unused to more than the smallest amount of light that they would likely go blind if they came too close to the surface. Yet here he was, tucked into a nook in the coral, waiting for a meal to pass. Shadows from both schools of baitfish and larger predators passed overhead, reflections from their scales dancing across the coral in a glorious natural light show. The viperfish, hidden as he was, didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Suddenly, the mer’s head swung. It would’ve been difficult for an onlooker to tell what caused the sudden action because of the thick curls that hung around the mer’s head like a cloud of ink. With sharp focus, the viperfish tracked the movement of a cod swimming past in its sluggish manner. The fish didn’t detect the stalking predator until it was far too late. The mer bursted out of his hole in the rock. His jaws clamped down on the poor cod’s tail, and the animal thrashed at the sudden explosion of pain. The moment the mer’s teeth broke through the thick skin of the cod, he retreated back to his hiding place. 

One of the shadows from above slowed. 

The second half of this pair was a frequent sight in this particular area of the reef. A great white. They weren’t unheard of, not as mers, but they were certainly less than common, especially on the reef, where black tips were the most common variety. Australia’s coastal waters were a bit kinder to the species, both animal and mer, so most people that caught sight of this merman weren’t surprised. That being said, many tourists from off the continent were floored by the great white’s size. Mers were almost always fairly human-sized from the waist up, but this mer had had enough room and protection in the reef to grow to massive proportions. In fact, his size together with his longer dull white hair made most assume he was a large female. Even after the frightening discovery that he was actually a male, which meant larger teeth and greater protectiveness over his territory, and despite the abundant laws prohibiting “mer-hunting”, as it had been called, many attempted to catch the mer. A personal triumph, they said it would be. A great trophy for the wall. None but a few returned to shore.

The great white was very keenly aware of what happened in his area of the reef. As the bitten cod swam further away from one attacker, the second descended upon it in a gray blur. The fish thrashed again, but there was no escaping from the three rows of serrated teeth and powerful arms wrapped around its head. Teeth dig into the fish’s gills, and red clouds seep into the water. The viperfish reappears, clinging to the cod and biting at its tail. Both mers continue to simply bite until the fish falls limp.

Then, they feast. 

The pair rip into the vanquished prey, the great white tearing through the thick outer skin so that his partner can consume the more tender flesh. At some points, the viperfish rears back to push his hair away from his mouth, and once even shakes his head viciously until he spits out a hunk of meat with a small clump of his own hair. The great white doesn’t seem to pay much attention to the other merman. Only moments after its death, the reef dweller is consumed by the two creatures, and what little remains is left to sink to the sandy bottom, where it will eventually be cleaned up by shrimp and smaller beasties. As the viperfish begins to turn, presumably to find another hole to ambush from in a few days, he is grabbed by the other mer. “Hey!”

“You hey. You’ve got cod in your hair.” The viperfish grumbles somewhat, yet does nothing to keep the great white from combing small bits of meat from his hair. He does his own quick check, just to maintain a little indignity. But really, he can’t stay upset for too long. Not when there’s only so long for him to stay around. “Fine. But you have blood on your mouth.” The smaller mer quickly darts forward and wraps his arms around the neck of the other, quickly pecking his lips. It parts his hair away from his face just a bit, and the larger mer can catch a glimpse of beautifully deep chestnut eyes. He pulls at the viperfish until he is crushed in a tender embrace. 

-

The mers drift lazily with the current about the reef for hours afterward. At times, the black-tailed mer has to carefully situate himself atop the larger, tired from moving as much as he has when he isn’t built for it. Mako doesn’t mind, even gets a weird appreciation for the feeling of a hand clinging to his dorsal fin. Most of the time, he can’t really register the feeling of being touched on his tail because either hands come away bleeding or some clumsy fish starts to thrash and spread its blood through the water. He’s not sure if it’s Gabriel’s hands or if it’s something specific he does to make it feel so nice. 

“That’s still so weird,” Gabriel mumbles, partially to himself. “What?”

“Just the way you describe all the fishermen around here. How close you let them get. I mean, they’re crazy for trying to get so close to something as massive as you. In my territory, if something your size swam through, there would hardly be anything moving for hours.” Gabriel shudders. “Everything down there is out to get you.” Mako quietly laughs. He adores his mate’s way of describing his home. It’s not strange or weird, but it is absolutely endearing. Gabriel pulls himself up to Mako’s shoulders, waving some hair away before resting his head on Mako’s shoulder. 

His lips rests just against Mako’s gills, and Gabriel can’t help the low hum that escapes him. The first time he’d tried getting so close to his mate’s gills, a sensitive and vital part of his body, Gabriel had nearly been bitten in half. The fear had been real then, when their relationship was new and neither mer had any idea of what to expect from the other. Now, Gabriel knows the idly grumbled threat that comes from his mate is more like old habit rearing its head. Content to relax, Gabriel fully enjoyed the gentle bump of his tail against Mako’s as they gently cruised around the reef. He has no clue how long the two of them drift along the weak current. His sense of time is absolutely horrid. The only reason he knows when it’s time to come up to the reef is because he swims up to test the water whenever he has the energy.

And at that thought, Gabriel sighs. He can only afford to be with Mako at the reef a handful of months out of the year, and their time was almost up. It was simply too hot the remaining months, and even now, Gabriel felt like his body would melt into the water at any moment. This would be their last day together until the cold returned. Some days, while sitting in the dark of his home, Gabriel would grouse and grumble about it for hours. Most mers didn’t stay with their mates, but those that did were free to remain with them regardless of season. Gabriel huffed, and the breath tickled Mako enough to make him snort. Gabriel smiled at that. He liked making Mako happy however he could. It made his normally black world that much brighter.

Mako suddenly grabbed his hand. “You should probably get down back home, while it’s dark and you can see,” he says, though his voice is a bit strained. They both hate the fact that they have to be away for so long. But they couldn’t handle each other’s environment for more than a few hours otherwise, and the black of the bathypelagic never changed. Gabe nuzzled more firmly against Mako’s neck. “Yeah,” he grunts. They continue drifting for a while longer, hesitant to split after a beautiful and jubilated few months together. 

“Just a minute. Come with me.” Gabe slides off of Mako’s back and grabs his other hand, pulling the massive mer behind him as they go up to the surface. They break the surface quietly. For a moment they remain there, breathing deeply through their gills, still submerged beneath the surf, as they get used to the change in pressure. Gabe dunks his head back down and up again, pushing all of his hair out of his face. He blinks, appearing dazed for a moment until his eyes adjust. And Mako loves them. His own eyes are dark brown, nearly black, but Gabe’s are somehow bright. Brilliantly bright chestnut brown irises that Mako can see clearly while Gabriel’s pupils have reduced to near-pinpricks. Even in the lightless dark of the reef, there is almost too much light for his eyes to handle. When his eyes finally focus, his expression shifts to something like fond adoration. Mako sighs. “You’re too sappy for a deep fish.” Gabe chuckles, arms coming around his mate’s neck as he nuzzles the larger mer’s cheek. “Yeah, well. You’re too sappy for liking me so much.” 

Both mers simply floated in the water, gazing at each other’s faces. Mako could see reasonably well, and this was the only time Gabe could as well, and each of them loved seeing the other’s face. With Gabriel being nearly blind during the day and his face obscured by his hair, neither of them really got to see each other’s face apart from moments such as this. But this is what they were both content with. They knew that they would have more than enough time to find moments like this every time they met in the winter. Gabriel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Mako’s. Mako presses back, one hand pushing against the back of Gabriel’s head while the other rested on his back, just below where scales met skin. Gabriel pushed forward, slipping his tongue between Mako’s parted lips. The hand on his head tried to pull him away, but Gabe wouldn’t allow it. He tilted his head one way, eyelids slowly drooping shut as he loses himself to the sensation of kissing. 

Mers didn’t usually kiss one another for affection. Nuzzles, holding hands, even cuddling, but not kissing. Mako had seen it from human couples on the boats that circled the reef and introduced it to Gabriel as well. Their first had been awkward, and neither had been particularly confident about the gesture. They were scared about teeth nicking tongues, banging their foreheads together, and generally looking ridiculous in front of one another. But now, they’d been doing it with one another for so long, they couldn’t be bothered to care. Tongues slid over teeth that would normally tear one another apart, and serrated edges slipped over and around smooth, dagger-sharp teeth. 

They pulled away from each other slowly, hesitant despite the impending season. Gabriel pressed a hasty kiss to Mako’s cheek. He’s already wasted so much time trying to draw out his visit for as long as he can. If he gets too caught up now, he might never leave. “I’ll be back once winter hits. Alright?” Gabriel asks. Mako wordlessly nods, squeezing his mate to remember the feel of his skin and scales. The hardest part is always letting go. “I love you,” Gabriel whispers, giving one last peck on the cheek before he dives back down to make his slow descent into the abyss below. Mako follows for a while, not very close but a good distance above the other mer, watching as he slowly sinks deeper... and deeper... and deeper... until he can’t see anything more than the faint glow of red from Gabriel’s tail. _Next year,_ Mako thinks, _Next year I’ll tell him._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would to write. And it’s almost 3k words!!!
> 
> As side note, the detailed murder is of a coral trout mer (they are super super pretty btw, like, amazing) and Mako DOES NOT EAT HIM. I was a little worried it looked like cannibalism, so I’m saying so now, Mako does not eat either pod soldier he kills in the first chunk of this chapter.

The soldier screamed bloody murder as they were torn apart by serrated teeth. The remaining - living - soldiers continued the chase, tossing their crude spears made of rock and bits of iron. They yelled obscenities at the pair, demanding they stop. The chased mers surge forward, quicker than their pursuers despite being laden as they were with nets of gold coins and baubles and jewels. The smaller, a mud-and-algae-smeared mer with a mop of scraggly, singed blond hair atop his skinny head, grinned at the soldiers as they lost more and more space to the swiftly fleeing pair. One brave idiot shot upwards, away from the small pack. A few yelled for him to come back, but he didn’t care to turn around. The rest of the pack, a small hunting party of five or six, slowed considerably as they came closer to the edge of the reef. The bright coral beneath the fleeing pair thinned out as the rocks slopes downward, until the only thing visible was a speck of white from dead branches below.

The foolhardy young mer kept up with the two. He seemed to be so sure he could stop and bring down two trouble-making mers all on his own. His comrades yelled for him to return, but the idiot just continued the chase, barely a foot away from the tail of the eel. He reaches, missing narrowly with his big, cyan-spotted hands. The foolhardy male turns back as his pod mates disappear further and further behind them. He waves for them to come forward, but when he turns back around, he slams headfirst into the thick body of the smaller mer’s bodyguard. Easily the biggest mer in the pod prior to now, the great white was fearsome, not just for his size and ferocity, but also because of the lack of a humanoid face.

Other, older mers said he had one, but the young ones doubted this statement. Ever since arriving at the pod, over fifteen years ago now, the massive merman had worn a mask over his face, made of the severed head of a shark with various lenses bulging out of where the shark’s eyes would have been if it were alive. There were also strange filters on the front of the mask, below the green-tinted lenses, and nobody had ever figured out what they were for except for the few who knew the mer personally. This faceless mer became a monster to the pod’s younger denizens, with good reason. He was vicious, ferocious, outright blood-hungry some would argue. But until now, he had been tolerated. The smaller mer tries to turn, to swim away, realizing just how small he really is when compared to this monster of a sea creature. But it is much too late.

The great white grabs the youngling by the tail, dragging him back to wrap his other hand around the other mer’s neck. From the edge of the reef, the soldier’s yell. They scream. They beg the shark. They beg him not to. They plead. They try to offer things. Nothing gets through to the head beneath the mask. Or, more rather, he doesn’t allow any of it to. This mer threatened his new boss’s life. There is only one way to ensure the pod knew that he meant to take his new job very seriously. The remaining soldiers, mostly battle-hardened older fish, stare in abject shock and horror as the shark takes his first bite out of the young one. Because of the crushing grip around his windpipe, the youngling can’t even scream. He seems frozen in agony as he is zealously ripped to pieces, small chunks of his flesh being picked up by darting baitfish while the shark tears through the body. By the end, as the shark swims away and the soldiers stare in shocked terror, the bright red, blue-spotted body drifts down, lazily, as though it had never lived at all. Already, it is being devoured by fish, all snatching at pieces of dead flesh to fill their bellies.

The message has been very clear: _”Do not come after Jamison Fawkes.”_

Jamison is far ahead of his bodyguard by the time the larger of the two catches up. He immediately offloads his portion of the steal onto his guard, and Jamie thinks himself lucky. If he hadn’t been such a troublemaker from the start, he very easily could’ve been that poor sod that just got torn to shreds. But, he thinks gleefully, it wasn’t him, and there would only ever be one Jamison Fawkes to be guarded as zealously as he was. And Jamie knows how lucky he is, is acutely aware of the treacherous edge of which he is balancing on, between being protected and being killed. As the two come closer and closer to a dark shadow that breaks up the even outline of the water, Jamie knows - imagines - his newfound bodyguard could snap him in half like nothing. Sure, he may be able to slip away once or twice, but with the ferocity this big mer has shown in the past few months since hiring him, Jamison is quite sure that even if he did get away, he would be hunted until he was caught. And killed.

Yet that just makes Jamison even happier. Happy that he’s found someone as massive and burly and mean as Mako, the great white shark mer that the whole pod feared, to be his very own bodyguard.

As they reach the wall of the atoll, Jamie notices Mako glancing around. As he takes the heavy net of treasure from the mer, Jamison winks, saying, “Pods don’t come so far out, mate. Pretty-fin nitwits like their coral too much.” Jamie puffs up his cheeks and sticks his tongue out at the imaginary pod. Mako huffed at him. The raggedy-finned eel was always quick to insult the more colorful, human-friendly species of mer that frequented the reef. Even when he and his bodyguard, Mako, had just escaped from the angry pod they had also just stolen from. Pod life wasn’t what Mako was meant for anyway. He didn’t like the constant social contact with the other mers, and the Queen, the name the pod leader gave herself, had more than a few reasons to abandon the great white in the open ocean on his own. Being quote-unquote “hired” by the most hated mer in the pod just sealed the deal. 

They’d just taken as much of the Queen’s hoard they could carry, blown her private cave to rubble, and then hauled it out to one of Jamison’s little hidey-holes while the pod chased after them. But Jamison certainly wasn’t wrong - the soldiers didn’t dare swim more than a few tail lengths past the outer edge of the reef. Open ocean is dangerous territory, especially for lone mers. Cold water, little food, and no shelter from bigger predators. Then again, having a massive great white shark mer was a wonderful deterrent to all of that. 

_**SLAP!!!** _

Mako growls behind his mask, snatching at the offending tail. “Sorry ‘bout that, ya spaced on me, mate. Now, I’m gonna get our stash good and stashed, so you wait here, ‘nd I’ll be back, got it?” Jamison demanded, swimming up to nearly shove his face into one of the lenses of Mako’s mask. He gave a solemn nod, to which Jamison grinned, taking off with vigorous shakes of his tail. Mako begins to swim in lazy circles to relieve some built up energy. The chase gave him adrenaline to swim for hours, days even, but the atoll was surprisingly close to the reef. Jamison actually had to hold tightly to Mako’s dorsal fin to avoid being left behind at points, which certainly did not make his restlessness any better. His tail isn’t sensitive to touch, nor is his dorsal fin, but Mako still remembers when he was used to it. He remembers having someone to hold onto his fins while they slowly drifted around the reef. It always felt strange, like the touch was coming through a coat of mucus and mud. But the touch was something Mako began to crave when he saw...him. Mako pauses in his slow circles. 

The name has slipped his mind. 

Years of trying to forget and now that he wants to remember it, the name is gone. Mako sighs. It’s not his fault that he’s forgotten the damn viper. If the fucker didn’t want to come back, then fine. Mako wouldn’t devote time to someone that couldn’t be bothered to do the same. Jamison is perfectly fine. Loud, maybe, and certainly annoying at times, but also the most excitement Mako’s had in years. More fun than moping around in a pod in the hope that the Queen would give him some kind of fulfilling purpose. 

Jamie’s algae-streaked blonde head pokes up from over the ridge of the atoll. He peeks over the ridge, cautiously ducking his head back into the inner lagoon every time he spots anything more than open sea. Finally, after a huffed threat from Mako, the moray mer slithered over the atoll’s ridge and toward his bodyguard. Nearly halfway to Mako, a dark shadow rushes behind the eel. It’s close to the stark white, dead branches of coral, and the rich black tail is clearly outlined. 

Mako ducks around Jamison towards the dead coral. The muscles beneath the iridescent black scales ripple as the front half turns, scrabbling at the bone white skeletons to squirm into a hole in the rock. As the tail struggles to pull itself into the crevice it’s found, the skeletal coral breaks with sharp cracking that resounds in the emptiness around the atoll. Mako shoots forward. He grabs the tail. It immediately thrashes and writhes in an attempt to escape deeper into the dead reef. The pelvic fins and fluke are ragged, like the fin has been forcefully separated from the supporting spines. The fins are edged with a dim red glow, and the tail’s midline is dotted with similar circles of soft red light. Mako braces a hand on the rock between jagged spikes of broken coral and forcefully wrenches the fish out of its hiding place. It continues to thrash, even as Mako grips its shoulder, but before he has a chance to flip his mask up and bite, he catches sight of the face. Not any face. It’s... _his_ face.

“Gabriel,” Mako breathes. His long, thick, dark hair has been cut somehow, shaved down to only a small fluff. His skin is also much darker, but with many more scars than he once had. Certainly, he had scars before. Living in the ocean, it’s almost impossible to live a long life without a few scars. But Gabriel’s body was covered, littered, with scars that Mako knew he didn’t have before. What looks like deep scratches and tears are concentrated on his abdomen. In fact, most of these new scars look like clean cuts. They crisscross over his chest and his belly, disappear around his side to his back, crawl over his face; more than one set of scars cut into his tail, forcing scales to grow out of place to accommodate the wounds. 

Something is wrong, though. His eyes weren’t focused. They were glassy, his pupils dilated. Unfocused. His teeth are bared in a fearful snarl, still struggling to get away. Mako can’t tell what would prompt this sort of terror. Sure, his mask is terrifying, made from the severed head of a shortfin mako shark and little bits and baubles that Mako picked up from wrecked human ships and submarines, but Gabe should know who it is from the rest of his body. 

Mako loosens his grip on Gabriel’s shoulder and it’s enough for him to curl around, sinking vicious teeth into Mako’s other arm. He immediately releases the dark scaled mer, who dashes off. Gabriel tries to curve around back into the wall of the dead reef, but he’s instantly met with Jamison tackling him away from the little safety the brittle coral provides. “Got ‘im!” Jamison proclaims loudly, “‘M starvin’, mate, let’s dump this drongo and get huntin’.” Gabriel stiffens, considering this is yelled right into his ear, and his struggle renews. He claws at the mucusy skin, tries to bite, to thrash, to free himself, but the iron grip of the eel keeps him tightly restrained. Even so, Gabriel writhes and growls, though he is starting to wear out. 

Mako swims forward and takes a strong hold on Gabriel’s arms. Jamie loosens his grip on his torso, but remains tightly coiled around the thick black tail. “Gabe,” Mako says again, louder and more forceful. Gabriel stops. His eyes dart back and forth, somehow completely oblivious to the massive shark mer right in front of him. “Mako?” His voice is breathy, unbelieving. “What the fuck, how did you get out here? Where am I? What’s...” Gabriel continues to babble under his breath, so bewildered by meeting his former mate that he seems to have forgotten Jamison, who is now slowly releasing him from his tight grasp. Mako gestures for Jamie to move further away, then lets go of Gabriel’s arms. “Where do you think you are?” Mako asks, instead of the more obvious question, ‘How do you not _know_ where you are?’ Gabe rubs at his arms where he’s been grabbed several times in the past handful of minutes. “Thought this was east Pacific, figured I just found an old human structure that drowned. But I guess not.” He sounds so hurt for some reason. Mako isn’t sure what to make of it.

Deep inside, he wants to snatch Gabe, carry him away to their old patch of reef, tell Jamison to fuck off with his treasure, and go back to living the way they did before. But that would be impossible. Mako couldn’t do that, not only because he had already committed to working for Jamison, but because right below to the warm ball of joy that had appeared with Gabriel, there was a deep-seated pit of whirling anguish and hate. Gabe _left_ him. Gabe didn’t come _back_. He left Mako alone for the past seventeen years without a single word. That was why Mako had gone to the Queen’s pod; after so many years of having a reason to stay where he was, happy and satisfied with the meals and the stupid tourists and the idiots who scarred him up in their attempts to catch him, he suddenly had nothing. On the brink of starvation until the pod found him, just because he was so consumed by the grief, even if he never let it show. 

Mako huffed. He started to swim off, waving at Jamison to follow. After a moment, Gabriel caught up with them again. “Wait, where are you going? Maybe I could help you...two?” Gabe glances behind him, probably expecting a whole pod to appear from the deep. Mako looks toward Jamison, who is inspecting Gabriel like he would a block of gold found on a human shipwreck. Mako turns back forward. He doesn’t think of the way Jamison is carefully observing the thicker muscles in Gabriel’s arms and back and chest, or how much Jamie looks at the rows of red lights on either side of Gabe’s tail, or- Mako shakes himself out of that line of thinking. It’s Jamison’s decision whether or not Gabe can stay with them, for whatever reason it might be. Gabe may not even come with them at all. And Mako is convinced that the dull pain in his chest is just from the chase.

Gabriel yelps as Jamison grabs his broad shoulders. “You got it mate! Pretty tail like yours oughta have a bit of use.” Jamie swam ahead, leaving Gabriel stunned for a moment until he returned to his senses, pushing himself onward. Mako doesn’t pay attention to the little outburst and silently continues forward. 

Jamie, on the other hand, is an unending babble of noise. “So, which part are ya from? Part of the reef, I mean. But ya don’t look like any kind that I’ve seen before? You ever seen one like ‘im Mako? Ain’t he a-“

“Yeah.” Jamie stops mid-sentence. Throughout the past several months of traveling around with Mako, Jamison has only heard his bodyguard speak a handful of times. He should’ve been used to it by now, yet Jamison didn’t really expect any answer after Mako had spoken so much at the atoll. This black-tailed mer has made Mako speak more in one string than he has in the entirety of the time Jamison has known him. Granted, that’s not a very long stretch, but Mako has spoken more in the last five minutes than Jamison thinks he ever has in the last five months. Whether this is good or bad, Jamison doesn’t care much. 

He takes it as a positive, oblivious to the tension held between the older two mers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I forget to mention Gabe is blind?
> 
> Because he’s blind. Wonder how he lost his sight ;) ;) Couldn’t possibly tell ;) that the descriptions of eyes ;) ;) in the first chapter ;) ;) ;) was ;) foreshadowing ;) ;)


End file.
